The
limbo state that occasionally happens in our lives can really rock our
foundation (our root chakra). Our roots are shaken. When this happens, it can be due to a plethora
of reasons. There is fear of something not being provided for. It could be something
your physical body needs, such as sleep, food or shelter.
In
my case, it’s shelter. I am very lucky I have always been able to provide a
roof over my head, but I am in transition at this precise moment. My house is
for sale. I have had a few offers that didn’t pan out and now another one underway.
All my friends who have sold a
house have told me that it’s one of the most stressful experiences you can have,
and they are right. It is daunting to always been cleaning every two seconds.
My hair has to be kept in a pony tail (when my autoimmune thyroiditis is out of
whack, my hair falls more than the average amount), so I am not picking up behind
me after my every step. I have to keep all surfaces clear of everything and
every time there is a showing, I have to lock up my two fur babies in their
carriers and leave them in the office for about an hour. I have timed an hour,
because people show up ahead of time and sometimes they are late. I am never
there, as the realtors come in when the house is empty of humans.
When
I have open houses, which has happened almost every Saturday, I actually have
to remove the cats. They are indoor pets and everything relating to a car is
scary to them. Because this is happening in winter time, I can’t leave them in
the car with the windows open, even if I have to go into the grocery store. So,
some of my friends have welcomed me in, and even sometimes with pets of their
own, we have to strategize on how to put these two in a separate closed room,
oblivious to their own pets. After all, pets are highly sensitive and very
territorial.
So,
my poor honeys have to stay in strange surroundings and go on these outside adventures
from time to time. Luckily, we have not had any accidents. I would be mortified
if that ever happened.
Now
I am packing more boxes, which tells me I still have a lot of stuff and I have
donated a ton more. My accountant asked me how many bags I had donated: 5 or 10?
I laugh. There were a few months last year when my car would be packed with
bags every week, sometimes suitcases, and it is tough to put a value amount to
things you have parted with.
With
all the stuff leaving the house, the disruption of constant cleaning and the
house not feeling my own, I wonder where I will be once it sells. I can’t
really make any moving or renting plans until I have a date for that. In
essence, this suspended state of limbo leaves one with the roots shaken. The
big question mark at the end of the tunnel is where will I be?
I
have found some destressing mechanisms: Reiki, which has been my life saver for
over a decade, essential oils (the ones I use here) and meditation. This last
one is the toughest one for me. Time is a factor. The life of the nomad continues,
as I camp in my own home.
